


Seasonal

by europa_report



Series: Post-war [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Post-War, just them boys being in love, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-19 14:48:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14875797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/europa_report/pseuds/europa_report
Summary: Lance is just trying to figure out a way to propose to Keith. A drive with Pidge and a field of flowers makes for a lot of emotion.





	Seasonal

**Author's Note:**

> This came out of one of my old fics which has now been deleted, but I wanted to keep the last chapter, so here it is rewritten as its own little thing

_Glass could shatter, sand could not,_  
_Brittle things befell themselves,_  
_When all was done and peacetime due,  
Then in time the lilacs bloomed_

-

“Dude, I swear, you’re too old for this to still be your taste in music.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you driving? No?”

Lance groaned as the next song started up, the smug looking girl beside him only egging him on by turning up the volume. Pidge scoffed at his display, but there was no real frustration between the two.

“Come on, you still listen to Beyoncé, how old is _that_?”

“No comment.”

Pidge chuckled as Lance crossed his arms, pretending to sulk. A car zipped past them on the highway, and Pidge stared wistfully after it.

“Green would’ve been so much faster,” she grumbled.

“I’m sure one day soon giant flying lion’s will become Earth’s accepted mode of transport.”

Pidge hummed, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel in time to the music. It was a warm day, being summer, one of those perfect ones where the sky was blue and cloudless and the light seemed to last forever. They’d been driving for nearly two hours already, and there was still a way to go, but Lance was happy to be roped into Pidge’s plan to find a gift for her girlfriend.

“Yo, exit’s coming up on the right,” Lance informed, eyeing the directions on his phone. “Don’t miss it.”

“I’m not gonna miss it.”

“You missed it last time.”

“You’re gonna _miss_ the rest of your time on Earth, Lance,” the girl muttered, indicating to turn off ahead.

The second they were off the main road, the traffic disappeared. Lance sighed happily, rolling down his window and cranking up the music despite it still being all to Pidge’s taste. The wind battered their faces, fresh sunlight dazzling them as it hit the paint of Pidge’s little white car.

“So where’s Keith today?”

“Hm? Oh, he’s babysitting Allison.”

“Cute.”

Lance hummed in agreement, replaying the sight of Keith in the early morning, little backpack of babysitting supplies slung over one shoulder as he leant down to kiss Lance goodbye before heading off to see his niece. And to remind him to get his ass out of bed before Pidge showed up.

“You still coming over for brunch tomorrow?”

“I can’t believe we’re the type of people who have _brunches_ ,” Pidge said, scrunching her nose a little at the word. “But yeah, I’m coming. But you’re cooking, not Keith.”

“Are you sure? He can make toast now. I think the babysitting helped.”

“You’re feeding me more than toast, McClain.”

Lance held his hands up in surrender, in doing so knocking his knees against the dash.

“As much as I love and appreciate your car,” he said, shuffling his knees uncomfortably. “It has, absolutely, zero leg room.”

“Uh, only if your legs are Lance sized.”

“You can’t tell me your legs are comfortable, you’re nearly as tall as Keith!”

“That isn’t very tall.”

“Then what’s Micalli gonna do when she comes to visit? She’s definitely taller than me.”

Lance had met Pidge’s girlfriend, her _alien_ girlfriend. She was the same size as Shiro; Pidge’s car would be a nightmare.

“Oh yeah,” said Pidge. “I’m working on Green’s invisibility shield so I can take her places like that.”

Lance gasped. “But _I’m_ not good enough to ride in Green?”

Pidge just brushed him off with a smile. Lance liked their banter, the chatter between him and Pidge that came so easily nowadays. He kicked his feet up onto the dashboard, ignoring Pidge’s indignant squawk of protest and tilting his head towards the window to catch the warm sun spilling through. Out in the countryside, sprawling fields of grass and golden crop now surrounded them. Lance loved Earth before they left it over five years ago to begin their battle in space, but now he appreciated it just that little bit more. The road here was mostly empty, the occasional car passing in the opposite direction, ruffling Pidge’s hair as air rushed through the window.

Lance pushed his sunglasses a little higher up his nose, so Pidge wouldn’t notice him watching her out the corner of his eye. Not that she’d mind, really, but Lance had taken to watching many people in their quiet moments, when they thought no one was looking. It helped, with everything, with all the bad memories and the anxieties he still had. Yes, it was confirmation they were still there, but all the time he’d be searching for the things that had changed about them; things that changed for reasons other than hardship and struggle and war. Sure, Pidge had more scars than she had as a child, but those were changes from the war. He looked for the more recent ones.

Pidge’s hair was longer. She no longer had to disguise herself as anyone, or worry about the inconvenience it might create in a fight. Her skin was warmer, healthier; there were no lines beneath her eyes or across her forehead. She was beginning to look more like the teenager she actually was. He watched her lip quirk upwards in the tiniest smile, meaning she was probably thinking about Micalli. The colourful watch around her wrist told of preference over practicality, and the sweater slung over her seat told of a mother’s love and compassion, because, _I know it’s summer, sweetie, but what if it rains_.

Lance did this often, with all his friends. He’d catch Hunk when the other was reading; he’d arrange for them to meet at parks and the like, just so Hunk would read his book, and Lance would pretend to read his while secretly watching his friend over the pages. The change in him was obvious; he wasn’t scared anymore. He wasn’t tensed, waiting for an attack; he let all his attention fall prey to the book, losing himself to the world in those words, not worrying that a shift in focus like that might lead to disaster.

He watched Shiro around his family. Lance’s eyes would follow whenever the older man went to cradle his daughter, Allison. Shiro’s eyes, which once stared down so many demons, so many hostile and intimidating forces, allies turned evil, scenes of disaster, now watched his daughter fondly, without a trace of hate or hurt in them. His Galran arm had long since been replaced with a new prosthetic, and as Allison lay in his lap and kicked her tiny feet and grasped for the fingers of that new arm, Lance realised how much the purpose of that arm had changed. Shiro wasn’t a weapon anymore, and his arm served as nothing more than a warm weight around Allura’s waist, or a sling for their baby daughter, or a hand to ruffle Keith’s hair.

 _Keith_. He was the easiest to watch. Lance would watch him every night as he lay asleep beside him, provided the other didn’t run fingers through his hair to get him to sleep first. He’d watch him over the breakfast table, through mumbled good mornings and mouthfuls of cereal and sleepy eyes. He’d watch him tend to the plants he grew along windowsill of their apartment in summer, and in the winter he’d watch him speaking softly with Pidge in front of a raging fire, his hands cupping a warm mug and his face aglow with the string Christmas lights hung around the Holt’s living room. He’d watch him during his sleepless nights, when Keith snuck outside to stare up at the stars, eyes brimming with tears and heart struggling under the weight of all that been lost, thinking Lance hadn’t seen, until he was pulling Keith into his comforting embrace. He’d watch him on the winter mornings they stayed tangled in the sheets together, blissfully ignoring the outside world. He’d watch him chat excitedly with Shiro after a flight in their lions, still living for the thrill of piloting Red, though for no other reason than their own enjoyment. He’d watch him when he curled up in the chair in the corner of the living room, eyes flitting between the window and the notepad he cradled in his lap, sketching whatever it was that had taken his interest. He’d watch him on their diplomatic missions, as he tugged at the often uncomfortable suits, only to forget his irritation at the happy outcome of so many of the meets.

Sometimes Lance would just watch Keith watch him. That was what he liked most, on the days neither had much to do, where they could simply spend time in each other’s presence, and Keith’s eyes would follow his hands over Lance’s face with gentle touches. Everyday he spent with Keith brought out more changes in him, and Lance loved each one even more than the last.

“What’cha thinking about?”

Pidge’s voice drew Lance back to the present; he quickly looked away, back to studying the landscape as it flew by.

“How much I’d rather be listening to Beyoncé right now.”

Pidge scoffed.

“Just cause I can’t see your eyes doesn’t mean I can’t tell when you’re thinking about something serious.”

“Beyoncé is serious.”

“Lance.”

Lance huffed, shrugging his shoulders. “Just stuff. The future.”

He paused, resisting the urge to smile at the sidelong smirk Pidge was giving him. “Keith.”

Pidge grinned, prompting Lance to flip her off at the drawn out _aaaw_.

“Oh shit!” She said suddenly. “Did you bring it? You promised you’d show me!”

“Oh yeah!”

Lance’s feet fell from the dash as he scrambled for something in his pocket.

“You’ve been keeping it in your _jacket_? How the hell hasn’t he found it?”

“Keith doesn’t like this jacket.”

Pidge leaned over the space between them to get a closer look, and Lance was tempted to tell her to keep her eyes on the road.

“Don’t jump out your damn seat… here,” Lance held out the ring, heart swelling with pride at the way Pidge’s eyes lit up.

“Ooh, it’s pretty.”

“You think?”

“Simple, but elegant,” Pidge replied, eyeing the thin gold band with its small line of amethyst.

“Think he’ll like it?”

“Dude, you could give Keith a cheerio for a ring, he’d still love it. But yeah, that is special.”

Lance grinned, feeling giddy. “Just gotta figure out how to give it to him.”

“Why are you waiting so long? Both of you want to get married, yeah? He’ll ask you first I bet.”

“No way, he is _not_ beating me on this one. I just gotta… figure out something. He would hate it if I made a big fuss, but its still gotta mean something, you know?”

Pidge hummed in agreement. “Oh, give him a bowel of cheerios, and make him _think_ you’re being dumb and proposing with cheerios- he’ll still cry by the way, but you hide the ring _in_ the cheerios.”

“That’s the least romantic thing I’ve ever heard. How the hell did you get Micalli to date you?”

“Uh, because I’m gorgeous? And intelligent? And the galaxies best girlfriend ever?“

“Okay, okay, that’s… a fair point. Still, you guys put human’s long distance relationships to shame.”

Pidge shrugged. “She’s not that far when you have a space lion and wormholes.”

“How many days til you see her now?”

“Five,” Pidge replied, a huge smile plastered across her face.

“You keeping track of the hours and minutes too, you hopeless romantic?”

“Shut up.”

The landscape was growing quite beautiful now, more fields and small patches of forest on the way to the small town.

“Remind me what we’re actually driving half way across the country for?”

Pidge huffed. “It’s not _that_ far away.”

“If you were after a bracelet or something, there’s literally a shop ten minutes from your house.”

“No, it’s not a bracelet. You know how much she loves flower, right? So I told her about Earth’s flowers, but now she’s like, _desperate_ to see them. So I’m making her a pot.”

“You’re giving her a pot plant.”

“No, I’m _making_ her a pot, for a plant, so she’s able to grow Earth flowers.”

“And this is so complex how? They sell pot’s everywhere.”

“Cause this one’s gotta be designed to support life on an otherwise barren planet. It’s like tryna grow stuff on Mars at the moment, dude. It’s gotta have its own water supply and generator, plus a detoxifying agent for the soil-“

“Oh, so it’s a Pidge type of pot.”

“Yup.”

“That reminds me, if you find any Yupper’s on this trip, I’m thinking a baby space dog is totally the way to propose.”

“I’m not bringing you back a Yupper.”

“But _Pidge_ -“

“You can go find one on our next mission.”

“That’s like a month away.”

“Get an Earth puppy if you want a dog so much.”

Lance pouted comically, making Pidge laugh.

“What about Allison, is she tagging along on the next mission?”

Lance snorted. “After the last great diaper disaster? No way, Coran’s volunteered to stay and babysit her.”

“Wow, how’d he fight Keith off for babysitting rights on that? It’s like uncle wars twenty four seven with those two.”

“Tell me about it. You see, this is why we gotta get married, so I’m added as an _official_ uncle.”

“You’ve already got a niece _and_ nephew.”

“But do I have a half-alien niece?”

Pidge chuckled.

“Still can’t believe Keith’s a better babysitter than you.”

“Says who?”

“Allura.”

“I’m… really offended?”

“Don’t be. He’s the best of all of us, you know it’s true.”

Lance huffed, peering out the window again.

Tall grass and short trees were scattered across the fields, sporting various plants and-

“So you know how Matt was talking-“

“Pidge, stop the car!”

Pidge jumped at Lance’s sudden outburst.

“What the hell?”

“Stop!” He was practically jumping out of his seat, jabbing his finger through the window. “Stop the car stop the car stop the car!”

“Is something wrong? What’s happening?” Pidge hastily began pulling the car up along the side of the road.

“No! No, do you have scissors?”

“Why would I have scissors?”

“Do you have a pocket knife?”

“Oh, yeah. I do.”

Pidge fumbled for her door handle as Lance propelled himself out the car with her knife, taking off toward the field abundant in wild flowers.

“What- Lance! What are you doing?”

“Quick detour,” he yelled, waving her over with a grin. “Come on, we’re going flower picking.”

-

Waiting was the hard part; Lance wrung his fingers together anxiously, pacing about the small living room, thinking, re-thing, and over-thinking his plan. It was a little too late to back out now, but that didn’t erase how nervous he felt. When he heard the tell-tale sound of footsteps on the stairwell outside, Lance nearly launched himself right out their apartment window. _Get a grip, McClain._

“Oooh my god,” he whispered to himself, taking a shaky breath as the footsteps came to a stop outside their door.

The jingle of keys and- a pause. Lance’s lips twitched, unsure whether to smile or grimace. _What if he hates it? What if it’s weird?_ After a long moment, the keys finally entered the lock, and the apartment door swung inwards slowly, cautiously almost.

When Keith stepped into the apartment, he took Lance’s breath away. Just like he did everyday, every morning, every evening, every time they met. The other didn’t spot Lance immediately, taking slow steps into the room, a soft smile gracing his lips as he twirled the small flower stem between his fingers. Keith was obviously trying to figure out why the lilac stem had been slotted through the lock, looking for his boyfriend with that innocent, inquisitive smile that had Lance weak at the knees. Keith reached back to shut the door, beginning to slide the bag from his shoulder when he froze, truly taking in the state of their apartment.

Seeing the change on Keith’s face, Lance forgot all about the nervousness he’d felt, suddenly captivated by the reaction playing out before him. Keith wasn’t frowning, but his brows pinched a little, lips parted as his eyes swept over the room. It was the expression he’d worn the first time he held Allison, and the same he’d worn when they returned to the desert shack and dug up the photo album of him and his foster mother, May. It was the expression he made when something _meant_ something to him. More, it was realising he meant just as much to whatever that was. _Whoever_ it was.

Tentative fingers reached out to touch the bunch of lilacs sitting in a vase by the door. Keith made a small choked sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob when his eyes landed on the flowers poking out of the pair of boots resting on the doormat. He stepped away from the entrance, finally letting the bag drop to the floor. Lance watched him, captivated, as Keith moved slowly through their apartment, stepping carefully as if he might disturb the flowers with so much as a breath of air. He reached the kitchen, trailing fingers over the little petals of the flowers there; they sat in vases, in cups and pots, balanced between cookbooks, peeking out of cupboard doors, sticking out of the kettle’s spout.

Keith turned toward the living room, and Lance could see his eyes were watering. He edged a little further behind a particularly large bunch of flowers, still content to just watch Keith. The lilacs were everywhere- laid in bunches over chairs, on vases along the shelves, balanced against picture frames… pictures of them, of him and Keith, of their friends, of their life then and now. The flowers sat on window sills, strung through curtain strings, sprouting from lamps, bunches of them in every corner. The entire apartment was alight with bushy purple flowers, fresh and sweet and throwing their colour to the world.

Keith sniffled softly, and Lance felt his heart clench. He looked perfect, standing there, unarmed and unguarded, the flowers framing the space around him. An inkling of that familiar anticipation crept into Lance’s veins as he took a cautious step toward Keith. Their eyes locked, and for a moment neither moved. Keith’s eyes were brimming with unshed tears, but he didn’t look sad; not sad at all. Lance twisted his fingers together, lips trembling as he tried to smile.

“What’s this?”

Keith’s voice wavered; neither of them cared.

“Lilacs.”

Keith smiled, a little tentative at first, growing into something beautiful that Lance couldn’t help but fall for.

“At least I think. They could be something similar, I’m not a flower expert I-“  
Lance huffed as Keith began to laugh, just a slight shake of his shoulders and chuckle that left him breathless given how nervous he already was. 

_Oh god,_ thought Lance, _oh my god this is it_.

“So anyway, I…” his gaze dropped to the ground, then back up to Keith, who was already watching him as if Lance had just handed him the universe.

“Thought I’d do some interior decorating,” he joked, voice on the verge of breaking.

Keith took a tentative step toward him, but Lance acted first, gripping his hand and holding it tightly.

“Keith, I-“

It was hard to get the words out, with Keith looking at him like that. With Keith just _looking like that._ With his beautiful eyes and the small, hesitant smile, and the hopeful look he had and the gentle way he wrapped his fingers around Lance’s.

“You told me, all those years ago, that… that you wanted something, a change. After the war, after… all that’s happened, and what you’ve been through. You didn’t want all that hostility to remain in you, you… You wanted to grow soft again. L-like the lilacs.”

Lance drew a deep breath, forcing himself to stand straighter and meet Keith’s eye. He looked so _hopeful_.

“Like the lilacs blooming. Keith I… I think you are. Have, uh, you’ve changed. But not… you’re Keith, my Keith.”

The boy in question smiled a little wider, squeezing Lance’s hand.

“All the good things, and the being soft, and gentle, and loving, it’s always been in you. It never left you. Y-you sheltered it. Just like you said, Keith, there were times you locked that away… like lilacs in winter, if you wanna get all poetic about it. But I… shit, this sounds dumb. I love you, Keith. And when I saw these flowers, any flowers really, I think of you. Because, here’s the thing.”

The _thing_ remained unsaid for a moment, as Lance tried to compose himself. Keith was being so, so patient, given how he looked just about ready to jump out of his skin. Lance gave his hand one more tight squeeze, and began.

“Here’s the thing about flowers.”

Keith’s lips were pursed in a way that would’ve given way to a smirk, if he weren’t still on the verge of tears.

“I’m not an expert on them, but I know the basics. The best part about them is, uh, well it’s the flowers. I know it’s obvious; cause the best part about a flower bush is when it’s in flower. That’s when it looks beautiful, and when everyone buys bouquets. Plants are nice when they’re flowering.”

Lance’s voice dropped without him meaning too, falling quiet. Keith’s hands hadn’t strayed from his, so he supposed he wasn’t making too much a fool of himself yet. He studied their pair of conjoined hands; Keith was still holding the little stem of lilacs.

“But when they’re not…”

He swallowed the surge of doubt and met Keith’s gaze.

“Nothing has flowers all the time. Everything’s seasonal, everything changes. Flowers come and go and come and go, and we get so caught up in the appearance of them that we ignore the very reason they got there. When… when a plant isn’t in bloom, we don’t kill it. There’s no flowers, nothing that pretty about it, but… but we _know_ what it’s capable of. And… we still care for it. Doesn’t matter that there’s no flowers on it, it still needs water, and sun, a-and love. Nothing has to be beautiful all the time, Keith, for it to be deserving of love.”

“Lance…”

There was too much emotion in Keith’s eyes, it was almost overwhelming. He leant inwards, seeking the other out.

“No, I-I need to finish. The point I’m trying to make, really badly, I… I liked you before the flowers.”

Lance’s voice stuttered in sync with Keith’s breathing; the words he’d thought and thought about were so much harder to say now, now that they actually meant something.

“I loved you, Keith, before you… Even when you hid it all away, before you were happy with yourself, before you grew softer, before you bloomed like those lilacs I- I loved you starting then. Just… a bare plant, with no flowers, thinking there was no reason for it to b-be loved. Even then, you deserved love, and I loved you.”

Keith was crying. It began somewhere after the first _love_ , the quiet slide of tears over his cheeks. He bit his lip, trying to stop the flow, but Lance wiped the tears away for him, thumbing over the damp skin as Keith shifted his hands to Lance’s wrists.

“But the most amazing thing,” he continued, gently taking Keith’s face into his hands. “Was when you kept changing.”

A sniffle; Keith was still leaning closer to him, but Lance still wasn’t done.

“When you began to bloom, just like those lilacs, that was… to see you happy, Keith, I loved you even more. To discover you were seasonal, like the lilacs, to see you bloom and grow and… It’s endless, with you.”

“I took on a-a simple little plant,” Lance said with a huff. “And I knew I’d love it, no matter what. And then, without me even thinking it would, it began to flower. And those flowers didn’t stop, you and those lilacs, were just endless. And it’s beautiful.”

Keith blinked at him through teary eyes, releasing one of his hands to trace Lance’s cheek. The sudden freedom had Lance reaching into his pocket, fingers closing protectively around the ring there.

“I meant to bring this out like five sentences ago,” he said with a weak chuckle, and Keith’s hand flew to his mouth, then his eyes, dropping his head onto Lance’s shoulder as the boy held the ring out tentatively.

“Because I want you to know something. I love flowers. That’s when a plant is most happy, when it’s flowering. But…”

Lance tilted Keith’s chin up to look at him, praying he could hold it together for just a few more seconds.

“If that plant ever stops flowering, if it grows bare again, I’m still going to love it. And care for it, and _want_ it. Everything is seasonal, Keith. _You_ are seasonal, so am I. And while I hope its all flowers for the rest of our lives, if there are parts that aren’t, I still want to be there, with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Keith, if you want the same. Flowers or not, however often you change, I want to be there, and I want to- I will love you.”

“We’ve been through hard times, _god_ , so many. And I’ve seen you at your worst. And I still love you. Because I look at you, Keith, and seasons don’t matter. I’ve seen glimpses of it all, so I look at you, and I know what you are capable of. I know how happy, how beautiful you can be, and I want to be the one to _make_ you happy. You don’t need those flowers all the time, because the things we’ve been through… I look at you, and I see flowers anyway. I look at you and I see fields and fields and-“

And Keith was kissing him. His tears were warm and wet against Lance’s cheeks, his arms wound tightly around his neck. Lance kissed him back just as tenderly, holding onto Keith. Lance caught one of Keith’s hands, pressing the ring softly into his palm, a question. Without a second’s hesitation, pale fingers were closing around it, and Keith was smiling against his lips, like the very first time they’d kissed. Lance felt dizzy with happiness, the elation of it making him soar.

When he finally pulled back, and looked at Keith, he saw an equal happiness mirrored there. The lilacs around them brought out the faint violet in his eyes, and Lance lost himself there. He held onto Keith, smiling. Everything was seasonal, but that way, the good kept coming back. One small winter, one bare plant, it couldn’t compare to the sum of better times. Lance looked at Keith and he saw flowers. Lance looked at Keith and he saw past a single cold season. He looked and saw fields, plains of flowers, plains of lilacs, stretching beyond his line of sight, each plant caught in endless bloom.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say [hi](https://jupiters-junipers.tumblr.com/)  
> I might add a few more short stories to this series, but I'm not too sure yet. If you have an idea you really want to see, feel free to message me here or on tumblr and I'll see if I can write it~  
> (please don't hold me to it tho I'm a busy gal <3 )
> 
> Aaaand finally hope it's okay to link this here, but @spiteaesthetics drew [this gorgeous piece](https://spiteaesthetics.tumblr.com/post/171330800965/breaking-in-new-sketch-book-and-inspired-by) inspired by the old fic, but has meaning attached to this chapter in particular.


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